Hello, Britain. I am here to ask you to please remain sane. We think that Brexit deal was pretty stupid but who are we to call anybody stupid now that we have elected Voldemort, I mean Donald Trump, president.
We are going to need you to be our older and wiser sibling in the next four years. Sure, like some little brothers do, we have grown up to be bigger than you but we still look up to you. It gives us hope that you and our “special” cousin Canada are still out there and still (relatively) sane.
Think of us as the brother who started drinking heavily after his divorce. We’ll go to rehab and get back on our feet after crashing on Canada’s couch for a couple of months.
Love, your best little bro, America.
PS do you have 100 bucks we can borrow until our unemployment check comes?
Summary: Reader, Sam and Dean return to the motel after a hunt.
Word Count : 707
Author note: My first ever fic and I’m so excited to share this. Please do leave feedback in my ask and messages x
Flopping down onto the crappy motel bed you could already feel sleep hitting you. Straining to keep your eyes open you rose onto your elbows to watch the boys bring the bags into the motel room. The hunt had been gruelling. The information was wrong and what started as a simple salt and burn run ended in a 3 day hunt and not 1 but 3 ghosts. You were running on empty. To top of this awful day the nearest motel only had one room available not your usual 2 rooms. As Sam threw your bag onto the bed next to you, you addressed the elephant in the room. “Sleeping arrangements?” You questioned unpacking toiletries and pyjamas. Dean grunted in response taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey which had appeared from his bag. “For God sake Dean use a glass. Nobody wants your spit back in their drink.” Sam Barked at his brother. “Who said I was sharing?” Dean asked raising his eyebrow and reclining further into his chair. Seeing a challenge you silently accepted. heading towards the dingy bathroom you stripped off your jeans, leaving you in an oversized shirt which used to belong to the older Winchester. Turning on your heel and facing the previous owner of the shirt you strode across the room and straddled him. “Dean sweetie. Can I have a drink?” You leaned in closer with every word. with your lips millimetres away from each other.. “And sweetie, Use a glass.” You rose, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Sam on route to the bathroom. As you turned on the shower you could hear the conversation between the brothers through the paper thin walls. “What the hell was that?” Dean demanded. Sam chuckled in response to his brothers obvious uncomfortableness. “She won.” Sam laughed. “Won what?” Dean mumbled still confused. “Power over you. You’re basically her bitch.” Sam giggled unable to control himself.
That is when you planned to mess with the older winchester even further. As you showered planning your new scheme excitement started to grow in you. Turning off the shower and towel drying your hair you emerged from the bathroom in a plume of steam with a tiny towel wrapped around you. Dean’s eyes were locked on you. Smiling at him you sat on the bed he had claimed. “Dean I’m sleeping here. That okay?” You asked looking over your shoulder at him with a slight smile. “Sure.” he stuttered out looking you up and down. Okay well let me change and then the bathroom is all yours. Standing you grabbed your pjs off the side where you had left them when you got distracted by Dean. Sauntering into the bathroom you were sure to leave the door slightly ajar so Dean had a direct eye line to you. Dropping the towel and slipping on your panties. You stretched up fully aware Deans eyes were on your back. You twirled you hair around your finger and combed it out again. Standing topless you felt so powerful over the man who’s eyes wouldn’t leave you. Slipping one of Deans old shirts over your head you opened the door and continued to button up the shirt, to just the right level of covered yet so naked. “Dude” Sam’s voice broke through Deans stares. “What?” Dean responded shrugging. Grabbing the hair dryer you started to sort out your hair. Looking in the mirror you saw dean heavily focused on your movements and your ass. Smiling to yourself you couldn’t wait to wind him up some more. As soon as your hair was dry and done you crossed the room towards the bed where Dean was reclining. Glancing at the clock it was 11:30pm. You were exhausted but messing with Dean seemed to take your mind off your exhaustion. Sam was already asleep and breathing heavily in his sleep. Climbing into bed not breaking eye contact with Dean you crawled right up to him. Kissed his cheek. “Night sweetie.” You moaned in the most seductive voice you could muster before climbing under the covers. After a few seconds all that could be heard was Sam’s heavy breathing followed by a loud exhale accompanied by Dean moaning “Shit. You Win.”
A/N: Hey guys, so if you want to be tagged in anything just shoot me a message and I’ll add you right on!
I had been on the same hunt as Sam and Dean, tracking the same monster that was currently drying up all its victims. A vampire. But being the proud sons of bitches that they were, they refused to let me come with them. That was always their problem. They always let their pride get in the way. So of course I followed them, and what the hell happens? They get fucking captured somehow. How is it that the best known hunters ever, get captured?
So here I am, sharpening my machete, getting ready to kill the vampire that managed to roofie my friends. I knew where they were, they were in the middle of the old, broken down barn, with the psycho vamp somewhere off in lala land, probably hunting for more food. I had to wait unil he came back, otherwise the wonder brothers would probably tell me fuck off. It was my hunt to begin with, and I might as well scare the shit out of them while I can.
The crunching of gravel made my ears perk up, it was back. I quickly hid behind the Impala, Dean’s “Baby” and watched him enter the barn, blood dripping from his chin. Great. Another kill. If Sam and Dean had just let me do my job, a lot fewer would have been caught in the crossfire, including them!
“Well if it isn’t the famous Winchesters. Where’s that friend of yours? Pretty little thing… If only she was the one tied up here and not you two. Damn, the things I would do to her before sucking her dry.” The vamps raspy voice made you shudder. What a grade-A fucking creep.
“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that!” Dean yelled. I could hear the shifting of the chair across the floor, which meant that he was probably trying to loosen the bonds that were holding him back.
“Why? Does little Deano have a little crush? Are you bangin’ her already? Because, if so, maybe I should just get her now and bed her right in front of you before slitting her throat. I bet she tastes so sweet…”
“Stay the fuck away from her you sick freak!” Sam yelled this time, chiming in with his brother.
“You would be able to see the fear in her eyes as I did whatever I please with her. You know, adrenaline in the bloodstream really does taste the best.” He chuckled darkly before continuing. “I’d play with her perfect tits, before ripping her chest open, and I’d suck on her neck, before biting down. And don’t even get me started on what I would do to her sweet, little p-”
“SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!! YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” Dean began screaming. I slowly made my way up behind the vamp, my machete drawn and ready.
“What? You don’t want to hear how I’d abuse your poor, little Y/N?” He asked mockingly. I quickly placed my blade against his throat.
“Not necessarily, no.” I sliced the blade down and severed the head clean off before looking up at the two brothers in front of me. “Hiya boys, how you doing?”
I could tell that they were angry. Whether they were angry about what the vamp had said back in the barn, or about the fact that I hadn’t listened to them and put myself in danger, I had no idea.
“Y/N, how could you be so fucking stupid? We told you to stay behind.” Dean growled before taking a swig of the whiskey bottle he had in his hand.
“What Dean is trying to say is that, we’re grateful, really. But we’re just concerned about you getting hurt.” Sam said, trying to soften the tone of the conversation.
“Listen, I get it. You don’t think I can hunt. You think I’m some pathetic damsel in distress that needs constant saving. But you guys could at least try to see that I’m not weak and I can stand up for myself.” I headed for the door before pausing and turning to them once again. “Because believe it or not, women are not pathetic, weak sex kittens that are only good for getting a guy off!” I said harshly before slamming the motel door behind me.
I walked to my room and started packing up my stuff. There wasn’t much, only a few personal items and a few changes of clothes. The rest of my things were either back in the bunker or at my old house.
A knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up quickly, drawing my knife out of the confines of my belt, just in case. I looked through the peephole, both relieved and angry to see who was at the door. I opened it slowly before he burst through, pushing past me and into the middle of the small room.
“Hello to you to Dean. Please, come in.” I said in a sarcastic tone.
“You’re not.” He said, still facing away from you. He was clenching his hand into a fist.
“I’m not a what Dean?” I asked, confused.
“A weak and pathetic sex kitten. In fact, you’re one of the most bad ass chicks I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks… I guess?” I was beyond confused.
“You know, the only reason why we make you stay behind is because if something happened to you, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for that. Everyone around me dies at least once, and I don’t want you to be one of those people.”He said sitting down on the foot of the bed. He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands. “What that vamp said about you earlier tonight, I couldn’t help but get mad at what he was saying. Especially because it was you.”
I was getting frustrated with him.
“Look Dean, I really can’t do this right now, I have to leave-” Dean shot up and slammed you against the wall, smashing his lips onto yours roughly and cupping your cheeks in his large hands. He slowly pulled away from you, his hands still on your cheeks
“Please don’t go. Not now. Not ever.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. “Please say okay. Please say you’ll stay.” He whispered. This time I reached my hand up and slowly stroked his scruff covered cheek.
“Okay.” He pulled me into another kiss and I closed my eyes, reveling in the moment. I felt him move me over to the bed before laying me down and straddling my hips.
“Are you sure you want this?” I rasped out, his voice husky and filled with lust. I nodded my head and whispered out a small confirmation. He pulled the tank top over my head and set to undoing his own clothes. I pulled off the leggings and my bra, leaving myself fully exposed. Tonight would definitely be a night to remember.
All robes and circumstance. He’s supposed
to represent Christ, but it’s like, “Look at me, come to hold it over you
how holy I am.”
Everyone hides something. Who knows
what’s really in that man’s head?
No hiding that my wife can’t sing. Grips
that hymnal like she’s white knuckling a truck up a mountain pass, and belts
out each song as if it would cover up her fear that God won’t listen to her. A kid
whistling in the dark.
But thank heaven she isn’t as awful
as that old hag Marjorie Branch. Sounds like someone drowning a pigeon.